


frustrations

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Car Sex, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, M/M, Out of Character, Porn With Plot, Size Difference, at least in my opinion dfjhsdjksa, only lowkey tho dont hope for Too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:55:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23566432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Desperate, Justin tries to get Ryan's attention. He just happens to do so in the worst way possible.
Relationships: Justin | Nothinbutlag/Ryan Magee
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	frustrations

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh kinda nervous to post this but. here we go !! hope u enjoy it u horn dogs

The slam of the car door on the driver side made him jump slightly, his heartbeat picking up to a dangerous degree; the tension in the air was much, much worse here, and he found himself beginning to regret everything he’d said. It was only jokes, of course, some off-hand comments that would only ever seem that way to the two of them.

But that wasn’t what he was so angry about, it seemed.

The signs of annoyance didn’t come until later. It wasn’t until Justin’s actions became more… explicit that he began to give him a certain stare, one that masked what he was truly thinking and feeling.

The beginning of it was innocent enough. All he did was stretch up, his hoodie sleeves up to his hands so that the fabric would lift up and expose his stomach, letting out a small noise (one that dangerously teetered on the edge of a moan and a sigh). Ryan gave him a look, pursing his lips and squinting his eyes the tiniest bit, but seemed to brush it off soon enough. It wasn’t enough for him.

Then there was the stunt he pulled while they were going out for ice cream. He made sure to make eye contact as he ate it, slow and controlled; he kept his tongue flat, licking up the side of his vanilla soft serve slowly, his lips closing around the tip of the treat steadily. He knew that the way he was doing it could be seen as promiscuous to anyone watching, but he simply didn’t care—he wanted the attention, had been craving it. The act stopped after Ryan clenched his jaw, just 6 seconds into his actions, before Matt or Jackson could notice.

What made Ryan decide to cut it all short was the dumb joke he made, the context of which long forgotten in Justin’s fit of current panic at the other’s sudden burst of masked frustration. One of him making a dumb motion, as if he were to jerk himself off, with certain… noises coming from him that could be deemed as comedic to those who were only seeing it as such. The joke was, admittedly, in poor taste and immature, as many sexual jokes are, but it had gotten others to laugh (most notably Matt, being the one to like those jokes especially so). Ryan hadn’t reacted to it too kindly, however, in a way that only Justin could ever see as him snapping; he had waited just a few minutes before mentioning the time, saying it was getting late:

_“My poor Justin must be suffering from jet lag, y’know?”_

The Tucker brothers were quick to let them go, saying their good-bye’s and wishing them well; getting Matt to stop talking seemed to be Ryan’s issue (he always wanted friends to stay a little bit longer, as most do, but his inability to read the room was a problem in his desperation), and each second that passed seemed to stretch on for hours in Justin’s state.

Now they were in the car, and Justin wished he had held on to those seconds a bit longer.

The car started, as well as music from the radio. Neither of them seemed to be bothered to grab the aux cord, instead settling for an Ariana Grande song that Justin didn’t care for. He barely registered it as her, instead dedicating his attention to the man next to him, analyzing his movements carefully. He seemed tense, his knuckles nearly white as he gripped the steering wheel, eyes squeezed shut momentarily; when he opened them back up, he was looking at Justin, his eyes piercing through him, not unlike a dagger would through his skin.

“Put your seatbelt on.”

The commanding tone made him shudder, from the very base of his spine, and he found himself doing so without question, his hands fumbling for the seatbelt. He felt compelled to keep looking at him as he did so, his eyes flitting over his facial features one by one—narrowed eyes, darkening as he watched him, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Then he muttered something, something that sounded similar to _good boy,_ and it resulted in an almost embarrassing reaction from the other: a sort of choked off noise, accompanied by a dramatic shift from his previous position (almost certainly unseeable in the darkness of the night, Justin tried to reassure himself). The car pulled out of the driveway moments later, leaving him to look outside of the window and let his mind wander, hoping to distract himself with the new surroundings that would pass by.  
Until the other’s voice cut in.

“You never know when to stop, do you? You’re always… you always have to push every single button. Get on my last fuckin’ nerve, huh?”

His voice didn’t sound like it usually did. It was rougher, colder, and it made his thoughts go wild.

Which, of course, was never a good thing, especially in an instance like this.

His mind tended to wander a little too far when it came to Ryan, and the enclosed area did nothing to help. Eyes glancing over at his hands on the steering wheel brought him to some… interesting places, his mind filling with thoughts of bruises on his waist and thighs, fingers wrapping around his throat, pulling at his short-cropped hair. Then there were more explicit thoughts, enough to make him go red despite no one really knowing what he was thinking.

Enough to get him hard, even, as embarrassing as it was.

“Bet you’re just… loving this. Loving me scold you like a fucking child.” His hands tightened around the steering wheel, enough to make his knuckles turn white. “Fucking attention whore. That’s what you are.”

_Oh._

That name… did things to him, he had to admit. It made pressure build in his stomach, heat flooding to his face.

A bold thought crossed his mind as Ryan continued, each word from his mouth further fueling and intensifying his arousal; it was unlike anything he’d ever done before, but he felt as though it was… appropriate, given the circumstances.

Or was it?

He was beginning to believe that he had read the situation wrong, that maybe this lecture was actually because Ryan was angry at him for flirting, angry at him for being so weird and explicit in his way of going about his little crush. Maybe he was angry because it was only okay for Matt and him to joke around like that—they’d known each other longer, it would only make sense (although there was a certain pang in his gut whenever he thought of it, it was the truth). He was being rather… inappropriate—desperate, even.

But then he thought about Matt and the Tucker brothers, and thought about how they never looked at him the way that Ryan did whenever he would do something even slightly sexual; they either didn’t care enough to notice or they would laugh, given the right context.

Thought about how he wouldn’t be heading to his apartment right now if Ryan was angry at him for making a move, how he would’ve had to stay at Matt’s.

Thought about a certain phone call between them just a few months before he had any thoughts of coming to Los Angeles.

Those ideas were enough to get him to slip a hand under the waistband of his boxers, spreading his legs the tiniest bit more; he unbuckled his seatbelt in the action, the noise bringing him to Ryan’s attention. He looked at him for a few seconds, watching Justin’s hand move further down, his fingers wrapping around his cock, before turning back to the road.

“You’re such a fucking slut, you know that?” His voice was gruff, lowered down to a murmur. “Did all this shit just… just so you could get fucked, huh? Got me all angry just for a chance at getting taught a lesson.”

Justin whined at that, his fingers moving to tease the head of his cock. “P-please pull over?” His words came out in a question, afraid that if he showed any hint of a demand Ryan would shut him down.

To his surprise, the other obliged, pulling over in a more hidden spot, behind some trees and bushes, and put the car into park. The car engine went silent, and it seemed as though the world around them went silent with it.

“...C’mere,” Ryan murmured after what seemed like ages, his voice laced with a newly-found softness, much like you would to a stray kitten.

Justin wasted no time, kicking his shoes off and clambering over the armrest as if his life depended on it; it was almost embarrassing, how excited he was, but Ryan chose to not comment on it as the other positioned himself on his lap. His hands reached up to cup his face, thumbs slowly rubbing the hair on his cheeks. It was all going by so fast, his heart racing as if he’d just run a marathon, and so Justin decided that it was now or never to ask a simple question:

“Can I kiss you?”

Ryan nodded, his tongue darting out for a second as he leaned forward, and soon their lips connected. There wasn’t a soft moment between them, no hand-holding or confessions or “I love you”’s; any similar feelings that arose were quickly shoved down by their mutual sexual frustrations and desperation, soft movements replaced by a deepened kiss and roaming hands.

It wasn’t what Justin had hoped for when it came to their first kiss, but he decided not to dwell on it.

He moved his hands under the other’s t-shirt, rubbing along the hairy expanse of his stomach and chest. He was… _warm,_ almost scalding compared to the coolness of the night, and an ironic feeling of safety began to envelope him. His lips were soft against his own chapped ones, and the way that he maneuvered them made him want more with each passing second.

Ryan’s hands slipped under the waistband of his sweatpants, squeezing at his ass, before attempting to pull them down—it didn’t work, however, given their current position, and Justin found himself having to throw his legs over the armrest, using the car door behind him to lift his body up enough. The fabric was pulled down quickly, thrown into the passenger seat in seconds, leaving him in nothing but a hoodie and boxers (which felt so much more exposing than it really was, given the lighting and the bagginess of the fabric covering his torso).

“I’ve been thinking about doing this,” Ryan admitted, his hand moving to grope him through his boxers after he lowered himself back down onto his lap. “Ever since…”

He didn’t continue, knowing that there was no need to do so; Justin nodded, unable to say what he was thinking, but hoping that Ryan understood nonetheless. There was something about his words that were… comforting, in a way; his friend had felt the same about the call, had been thinking and feeling the same way he was for months now. They _both_ wanted this.

A large hand found its way under the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and off swiftly, impatiently. Justin didn’t mind, given how desperate and hard he was himself—months of frustration was leading up to this, and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle any teasing. He shifted quickly after the fabric was peeled off, resting his legs on either side of his thighs, his hands immediately moving to Ryan’s gym shorts.

He was slightly taken aback by his own confidence; he knew that, in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t act like this—if anything, he’d be hiding his face and muffling any noises he made. Or, maybe, he wouldn’t be doing this at all. It was never something he particularly sought out for, never something he even saw possible, given his appearance.

Oh. That wasn’t a good thought for him.

He attempted to shake it off, instead looking up at Ryan again, eyes locking. Hands were on his waist, and all he could think about was how _small_ he was compared to him, his dick throbbing at the thought (it served as a good distraction, at the very least, although there was something in him that made it upsetting to think about).

“You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?” Ryan asked, smiling, glancing at the hands on his shorts that hadn’t yet moved. At Justin’s bashful shake of the head, he squeezed his sides, bringing him closer.

Their hips were aligned now, and Justin could feel how hard he was like this, his thighs tensing at the sensation. He watched as the other’s hand moved from his waist to his own shorts, pulling the waistband down enough to make his own cock spring out, slapping against his clothed belly. His breath caught in his throat at the sight—his dick wasn’t exactly small, especially compared to his own, and there was a sort of anxiety building in his chest at the thought of having to…

“You doing alright?” Ryan murmured, his hand moving to grab at his chin. “We can stop now, if you want, I don’t—”

“It’s… it’s fine,” he cut in, his cheeks heating up. “I just don’t know how I’m going to be able to…” He looked away, tears pricking at his eyes with how fast the blood was rushing to his face.

Ryan laughed, rubbing circles into his skin. “You sure know how to boost a guy’s ego, man.” Justin saw his hand move from the corner of his eye, popping the glove compartment open. There was the sound of papers being shifted before he pulled two silver packets out, each a different size and shape. “I can let you take the wheel, if you want.”

Justin swallowed and shook his head. Ryan fell silent for a moment, a sort of expression on his face that Justin couldn’t quite place.

“...Oh.”

He moved then, suddenly, a newly-found vigor in his movements. Justin watched as he ripped open the square packet, pulling a piece of rubber out of it, before he grabbed his hand.

“I… I was actually hoping that…” He faltered for a second, his heart hammering in his chest. He almost wanted to shake his head, to say a simple 'nevermind' and let Ryan do what he wanted. It was too late now, though, wasn’t it? He couldn’t take his words back, knowing that he’d have to talk eventually—it’s happened before (albeit in less serious situations). He mentally cursed himself for talking, but continued, squeezing his eyes shut to do so. “...that you’d c-cum inside of me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Ryan whispered, his hand moving to squeeze at the other’s thigh. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, Justin.”

He let out a nervous laugh, cracking his eyes open. The condom had been discarded, finding a place on the armrest between the driver and passenger seats. Another silver packet took its place in Ryan’s hand, this one longer, slender; he managed to guess what it was before the contents were poured generously onto his free hand.  
He watched as Ryan slathered the lube onto his cock, letting out a hiss between his teeth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. The blissed-out expression only lasted for a second, to Justin’s disappointment, but the feeling was soon replaced by a combination of anxiety and excitement.

His hips were repositioned so that Ryan’s cock was lined up right beneath his entrance, and the sight made his stomach do a flip. “You ready, baby?”

Despite the fear in his gut, he managed to nod, his hands squeezing at the fabric of Ryan’s black t-shirt.

He was lowered down, slowly, wincing a bit at the stretch; his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth fell open involuntarily, his hands grasping onto the other’s shoulders. It was an… odd feeling, although not entirely unpleasant, and soon Ryan was bottoming out.

There was silence for awhile as Justin grew accustomed to the feeling, letting out shaky breaths that would almost hint at giggles. He was in his own little world, involuntarily wiggling his hips; whether it was from discomfort or from neediness, he didn't know. It seemed as though time was suspended, everything growing quite, until—  
There was a tap on his thigh, and he slowly opened his eyes. “You doing alright?”

“Please move,” he whispered.

Ryan shifted, angling them so that Justin was leaning against the steering wheel, his elbows finding themselves though the holes for some kind of support, albeit an uncomfortable position. His hands grabbed at his waist, squeezing tightly, before pulling out slowly, his eyes analyzing Justin’s face for any sign of pain or discomfort. There was a pause, with Ryan adjusting his grip slightly, gaze flickering over his features, before he thrusted back in harshly. An embarrassingly loud moan escaped his throat at the movement, his hands curling into fists, nails digging into his palms.

Ryan found a steady rhythm after that, hips moving slowly—it contrasted greatly with the iron grip he had on the poor boy’s waist, as if he was trying to keep himself together for the time being. There were small noises coming from him, filling the car, and it took everything in him to not make the noises even louder. He was tight, searingly hot around him, almost pulling him in without even trying to.

_“Please,”_ he breathed then, as if he’d read the other’s mind.

“What do you want?” he replied, watching as Justin seemed to prepare, placing his hands on the little bit of the seat that was exposed between Ryan’s knees.

_“F-faster.”_

He didn’t need any more than that; his thrusts became harsher, angling Justin’s hips in a way that made the prettiest sounds come out of him. His head was thrown back, throat exposed, any former embarrassment and shyness being cast aside as he moaned, curses slipping from his lips. It was such a pretty sight to see, and Ryan marvelled at how easy it was to get him to break.

“Good boy,” he murmured, the words laced with a heavy pant. “So fucking good for me, take me so goddamn well, _shit.”_

Justin tightened around him subconsciously at his words, forcing a groan from Ryan’s chest at the sensation. It was too much at once, and he found himself having to slow down before he finished too quickly. There was something about Justin that made it that much easier to be overwhelmed, and he would be embarrassed if it weren’t for the look on the other’s face that told him he felt the same. His balls were already drawn in tightly, the muscles in his stomach tensed up underneath his fingers, his eyes already glazed over.

He leaned forward as he slowed down to a stop, once again connecting their lips. This kiss was softer than their first, somehow, had them both melting into it; Justin’s hands flew up to grab at Ryan’s hair, his lips moving greedily, almost too excited. He rutted against him, taking all that he could, desperate in a way that would be pathetic if it were anyone else. Vanilla ice cream from earlier could still be tasted on his lips.

There was a feeling in his gut, then, his anger from earlier surging back, and he grabbed his wrists, forcing his hands down behind his back.

The kiss broke with a whine, the boy attempting (and failing) to break from his grasp. “C’mon, Ry, come on, you can’t…”

He hummed lowly, a smile spreading on his face. “Mmm, but I can. Don’t think I forgot those little stunts you pulled today, baby.”

There was another whine, thoroughly ignored by the other as he moved down, kissing along his jaw, his lips making contact with some stubble on his cheek that he hadn’t yet shaved. He could feel Justin’s breath on his own cheeks, hot and ragged, even as he moved down to his neck. Every mark he made elicited a soft gasp and a slight tug from the hands on his wrists. Ryan slowly started his thrusting again, leaving a particularly harsh mark on his collarbone that made him whine louder than before.

They stayed like this for a while, Ryan’s face buried into his neck, leaving marks on his pale skin that were darker than intended (although it fueled something within him, awakening some kind of possessiveness that he wasn’t truly aware of until then). His rhythm slowly quickened, although not quite enough to get either of them off any time soon, and Ryan knew that the sole purpose of it was to torture him.

“Ryan… Ry, Ry, _please,_ I need…”

“What do you need, baby?” He poked his head up, landing a quick kiss to his jaw.

“Please, I want… I need to cum, _please,_ fuck, I need you so bad, I—”

He kissed him as a response, cutting his rambling short. Wordlessly, he lifted himself back up, his hands still locked around his wrists. There was a pause as they looked at each other, Ryan’s eyes scanning his neck and the bit of his chest that was showing beneath the disturbed fabric of his hoodie. The hickeys ranged from light red to dark purple, the moonlight shining through the window making them stand out even more.

Then he started again. He pulled out slowly, dragging his dick out until just the tip was in, before slamming back in, drawing a surprised high-pitched moan from the man beneath him. His small hands flexed, as if he wanted to grab onto something, although his movements were limited. He used his wrists as leverage to keep up the brutal pace, drawing him in in time with his own thrusts, smiling at Justin’s whines. He was just so damn _easy._

Soon he was growing tired of the position they were in; he decided to get handsy again, moving his hands—one to his hip, the other to his thigh, lifting it up.

He hit a particular bundle of nerves on the next thrust, causing Justin to arch up, choking on a moan. “Oh, oh _f-fuck,_ right ther-re, oh _G-god…”_

Ryan sped up, keeping his hips angled, watching Justin grip the steering wheel behind him for support.

_“Ry!_ Ryan, oh fuck, I’m…” He started to shake, his eyes screwing shut, his knuckles going white from clutching the wheel so hard. _“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstopdon—”_

He bit his lip hard (so hard that Ryan was scared for a moment that he’d make himself bleed) and tried to hold back a loud moan, high-pitched and needy, as he came on his hoodie, hips bucking up, before going slack beneath him.

“Christ, Justin, I didn’t even touch you yet.” It was meant to be taken in a teasing way, but his tone came out more… astonished than anything, his words accompanied by heavy breathing from the exertion.

Pressure began to build at his spine, his rhythm faltering as his movements became erratic. Justin whined at the overstimulation, his prostate being hit with every thrust, but he didn’t tell him to stop. He began to ramble, instead. “Fuck m-me, _God,_ I-I wanna… wanna feel your cum inside of me, Ry, I… I want… _Fuck.”_

He tightened around Ryan once more, and that did it—he was sent over the edge, letting out a string of curses, his grip tightening on his hip and thigh.

There was a flood of warmth inside of him, thick and mucus-y, and it was… gross, but he liked it, for some reason or another. He’d daydreamed about it before, late at night, while he was desperate and horny; although it wasn’t exactly how he thought it’d be, it made him feel… owned, something that he didn’t even know he’d like until now. It wasn’t something he’d even considered until now.

Ryan snapped his eyes open, unable to even remember that he’d shut them in the first place. Justin’s face held nothing short of a fucked-out expression, hair tousled and pretty lips open to let out pants, the sheen of sweat on his face illuminated in the moonlight.

There was silence for a while, the car filled with the sound of them catching their breath, both thinking of what to say. Because what are you _supposed_ to say? Most of what they wanted to say was too terrifying to say, too risky; they weren't sure how the other felt, no matter how obvious it may be. The terror was beginning to settle in, the air once again becoming thick and heavy, although this time for another reason.

Ryan reached for the glove compartment, still popped open from earlier; he fetched a towel from it, going to wipe off the other’s hoodie, who hummed in appreciation. The towel was then placed under them, just in case, as he pulled out slowly, tucking himself back into his gym shorts. He then grabbed his clothes, helping him shimmy them on lazily; Justin stayed in place, seemed to want to say something, not moving from his lap. Ryan waited, but not a word left his mouth.

Finally, Ryan spoke up. “You’re going to have to hide those hickeys.”

Justin hummed again, closing his eyes. “What if I don’t?”

He felt his heart skip a beat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

They made eye contact, and he couldn’t help but notice just how _pretty_ Justin’s eyes looked in the blue light shining through the window. Couldn’t help but notice just how pretty he was as a whole, no matter how ironic it was to say it, given the circumstances. He wanted Justin to know that, wanted him to know just how he felt about him.

There are a million things he could have said, but instead he asked a simple question.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his arms wrapping tenderly around his waist. “Like, _really_ kiss you?”

Justin nodded, forcing down a smile before pressing his lips against his.

**Author's Note:**

> might do a fic for the call i referenced so uhm ! lemme know if u guys want that hehe


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